


A Hawke's Flight

by JadeDrake



Series: Marianne [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blue-Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Canonical Character Death, Carver died in Lothering, Denial of Feelings, Grief/Mourning, Hawke & Varric Tethras Friendship, Hawke (Dragon Age) is Bad at Feelings, Hawke Falling Apart, Hawke secretly Mother Hen, Loneliness, Minor Character Death, Minor canon divergence, My First Work in This Fandom, Oh boy is this one gonna get Rough for Hawke, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), The Kirkwall Crew - Freeform, The Kirkwall Crew is a Family, Uses a fair bit of Canon Dialogue, Whether they like it or not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23549677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeDrake/pseuds/JadeDrake
Summary: The Tale of the Champion of Kirkwall, following one Marianne Hawke over the years.
Relationships: Bethany Hawke & Female Hawke, Female Hawke & Hawke Family, Female Hawke/Varric Tethras One sided
Series: Marianne [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694914
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. The Sea at Dusk

She  _ did _ like the sea, she swore it. It was just so... _ nauseating _ . Surely, it was the sea and the sea alone making her feel this sick. She watched the sun set with tired eyes, staring through the hatch above at the darkening sky. It had nothing to do with the face of... _ someone _ , trapped in her mind’s eye. Not at all. 

And then her baby sister shifted against her, closer to her. It almost disturbed their mother, who was napping at her other side. She pet Bethany’s hair, and let her use her big sister as a pillow. After all, what were siblings for?

Odd. She felt nauseous again, and the boat hadn’t even rocked very hard that time. Her head hurt, either way. So did the palms of her hands. Absently watching the clouds drift, she didn’t have very many thoughts at all. It was unnervingly quiet and still in her own mind. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought herself dying.

_ Nausea _ . She was already sick of feeling sick.  _ Kirkwall will be better _ . That was the only thought that kept her strong enough to support them. She allowed herself a moment to imagine it, though dusting the cobwebs from her brain took a bit of effort. Well, more than usual. 

They’d arrive in Kirkwall, and be welcomed in. Mother would get her status back, though it might take some effort, but there were likely no nobles that couldn’t be swayed with an excellent party. She could easily envision her taking charge, and putting together something astounding enough to wow the resident up and ups. Her mother was clever like that. 

  
  


With the power they’d gain, Bethany would be easier to keep safe. Just the thought was enough to hold her sister closer. The templars would have far more trouble getting an apostate from a family with enough reputation and sway to hide such abilities.  _ Bethany will like the high life _ , Marianne realized. She’d adore the dresses mother will make for her, and have a fun time being courted, if her suitors were respectful enough. And for their sake, they  _ would _ be.

Aveline was family now. She was there for... _ A lot _ . Marianne swallowed once again, and took a deep breath to settle her stomach. She’d earned a spot in their rag tag group. Maybe she’d enjoy going out with her on the occasional raid. After all, for as much as it would please her to sit around in luxury and not worry about a thing, she knew herself well enough to predict her getting bored with that life very quickly. And, having a warrior would be very useful, considering she-

She didn’t have one anymore. 

Marianne felt her stomach lurch at the thought, squeezing her eyes shut tight. After several deep, slow breaths, she opened them up again, and caught Aveline’s eye. She understood. They shared a moment of silence unlike the others that had already passed. This time, it was one of relief. It didn’t seem like she was the only one nauseous anymore. 

Marianne looked back up to the sky, and with a sinking feeling, saw it was already night. Time was passing  _ painfully _ slowly, and she desperately wished, with a sudden and intense, almost  _ manic _ energy, that they would reach Kirkwall,  _ soon _ . Not because of the future, but because the present was so damn  _ unpleasant _ she couldn’t stand being here any longer. 

But no amount of wishing would get the ship there faster. She hit her head against the wooden pole she leaned on, and watched the clouds drift by. Maker, she felt like  _ screaming _ , but she didn’t know if she even remembered  _ how _ to. It had been so  _ quiet _ the  _ entire _ trip, that even though they were all on the boat, it still felt as if she were  _ drowning _ in it. Her nails  _ dug _ into her palms, and she counted her own heart beats. She was going to go  _ insane _ , she mused with a sense of dry, morbid amusement. She wouldn’t care, but Bethany needed her. Without her, Mother would have no protection but her, and she hated the thought of Beth fighting. 

Marianne held back a groan. How long? How long could she stare at the same grains in the same old wood before she lost it? She knew very well she tended to exaggerate, but this time? She was serious. They’d been in the hold for weeks. Her head was spinning, and if she never went below deck on a ship again, she’d be relieved. She unfurled the hand not petting Bethany’s hair, and clenched it back into a fist, nails digging into her palms almost hard enough to draw blood.

She was strong, but Maker, she could only take so much before it broke her. Father, then Carver, now here she was, drowning on a ship that hadn’t sunk. It was overwhelming, and she hated it. This wasn’t something she could fight. She had no way of getting there, and out of this hell hole. It was crowded by other Fereldens, and refugees of the Blight. For all that she was, she wasn’t powerful enough. She never had been, she mused. She should have been. Strong enough to aid Father, strong enough to keep Carver from rushing in, or at least to keep him from rushing in alone. But she  _ wasn’t _ strong, was she? She never hit hard, she hit fast, and even though speed was her specialty, she never seemed to be  _ fast enough _ . 

Maker, she hated, hated,  _ hated _ this.  _ Back _ and  _ forth _ ,  _ back _ and  _ forth _ , rocking on this damn ship, listening to retching refugees and sobbing Fereldens, catching concerned looks from Aveline that reminded her too much of her Father, watching Bethany get ill, and Mother grow frantic over her. She watched the stars gleam. She was absolutely  _ sick _ of the view. She wanted  _ out _ .  _ Out _ of this hold,  _ off _ the ship,  _ off _ the sea, and  _ hell _ , if she could manage it,  _ out _ of  _ Thedas _ . A better world where she  _ didn’t _ have to  _ worry _ herself  _ raw _ for her family.

_ Another _ thing she  _ hated _ , Marianne noted, was how many times she went in this  _ circle _ . It made her thoughts grow  _ foggy _ , and  _ weak _ , like a snake eating her own tail.

No. She couldn’t go down this road again. Mother needed her. Beth needed her.

Aveline was watching her with concern now, but Hawke focused herself. Closing her eyes again, with a deep breath, she remembered something her father had taught them. A way of centering oneself. She began to go over the words to the songs and poems he had taught her as a young child. Bethany used it to keep herself from getting too overwhelmed by dreams. It worked to calm her down, and for Aveline to stop giving her those concerned side glances. But why wouldn’t it?

It was the seventy eighth time she’d done it on this trip.


	2. Warm Wisps of Love

Kirkwall was hell. But Maker, she was so proud of Bethany. It hurt Marianne. With every wound her sister received as they worked as mercenaries, it was as if she herself had been injured. If she could have bared the wounds for the both of them, she would have in the blink of an eye. As it was, she was so very tired. Every instance that had put Bethany in harm’s way cost her a year off her life. 

She thanked whatever deity was out there that Bethany had yet to be seriously injured in their 7 or so months of service. Aveline was a damn wall when she had hold of a shield. Personally, Marianne thought that the red haired woman was very protective of both of them. Marianne didn’t want her protection. Not when she could keep Bethany from harm’s way. As it was, every scratch the youngest got was a  _ look _ from Mother. She understood perfectly. Bethany was… She was all they had left. Marianne would keep her safe, down to her last dying breath. And then she’d have people hired to look after her once she was gone. 

Leandra was, as always, a force to be reckoned with. This showed in every interaction she had with Gamlen. After every night of drinking, or betting, or visits to a certain brothel, he received a similar, albeit less intense look.

It was late in the evening, and they had actually managed dinner that night. Marianne was so proud of Bethany. The day before, when a bandit had gotten too close to Aveline, she had taken them out quickly, letting the close quarters fighters get in. It had made their job so much easier, that they could stay in that night. Bethany had her eyes closed, humming a song they had overheard one of the sisters back in Lothering sing. Usually, it would have made Marianne feel homesick. But tonight, it made her smile.

“Beth. Sit down by me.” Curious, her sister did. “Your hair’s been getting so  _ long _ . I’ll braid it.” Bethany lit up. “I’m thinking about getting it cut, and I was going to ask you, since you’re as good as you are with knives, but I can hold off if you’d like.” Sure enough, the youngest Amell’s hair was reaching down to her mid-back. Even for a ranged fighter, it was a bad idea to have so much loose hair. Marianne felt-and she couldn’t think it enough, no matter how many times the word came to mind- _ so _ proud of her. She was a bit sad, too. 

An old ache resurfaced. 

Bethany shouldn’t be fighting. They should be living in their estate. Mother should be hosting parties, and Bethany should be wearing fine dresses. And Hawke would still be fighting, but she’d have a warm home and a thriving family to return to. But no. It was their future, and that was something that couldn’t be shaken from her mind. But it was one that would take heaving and shoving, gritting her teeth, and rolling a boulder the size of the odds stacked against her uphill.

She would do it. For Mother. For Bethany. For Aveline, too. She  _ had _ to.

Her own voice picked up the song Bethany was humming, and the old aches washed away, leaving just the pleasant feeling of a full belly, and a happy sister carrying through. They told stories late into the night, laughing hard enough at one point to make Beth snort, which had Marianne on the floor, with a stitch in her side. It wasn’t what she had expected, but for now, it was good. 

The next day, Marianne put on her leather armor and watched Bethany tie her hair back into a braid, having already put on her own. She paused in her own work, and admired how strong she was becoming. If their mother was even a fraction as proud of Bethany as Marianne was, she was shocked that all of Lowtown hadn’t heard such proclamations. 

As they set to work, they heard rumors of the Merchant’s Guild planning an expedition. They thought nothing of it, as many rumors were often fruitless. They worked, and they worked hard. Hands raw from how long they held her daggers, Bethany getting splinters from her staff growing worn, Aveline cracking two shields from taking heavy blows.

They spilled a lot of blood, but every drop was another coin. Every look at Bethany’s freedom, and Mother’s smile was a second wind. And a third. And fourth. The times Marianne felt like sobbing grew far larger than she could count at this point. Backstabs, both by her, and in her back, she carried.  _ For Beth _ . _ For Mother _ .  _ For Aveline. _

But then they heard of that expedition again, a month later, along with the sum of money those involved would be paid, and it only took one hopeful glance from Bethany for Marianne to set her sights on their next goal. She never could deny her anything.

They did every job they could, and came home later and later each night. It was tiring, but every night and sometimes in the morning, Marianne would braid Bethany’s hair. She let it grow longer and longer now that there was hope for getting out. Marianne had mentioned how pretty she’d look in a fine silk dress, with her hair curled, and it had become something Bethany wanted for herself. By now it was reaching far down her back, and Marianne had learned to braid it more intricately. Her own hair was kept cropped to her ears. She had cut it when they took the mercenary work, since longer hair was harder to manage when one dealt with blood and gore daily.

Marianne had gone to bed that night, steeling herself with determination. Bethany would get her dresses, Mother her old life, and Aveline a purpose. Marianne would thrive seeing them happy. She watched her sister fall asleep, tired, but hopeful. Hawke was going to make sure that they got into that expedition, by any means. 

Not for her, but for her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can anyone figure out what song I'm using for my chapter titles?


	3. On Which to Poise

Their last and only chance to join the expedition, they met a few months later. Varric Tethras. 

Marianne had gotten very, very good at denial over the years, and very firmly stepped on any emotion that wasn’t perfectly professional. It was no use getting any kind of  _ ideas _ over a potential business partner, even if she was perhaps somewhat intrigued at their first meeting. Marianne personally thought him almost as charming a rogue as she herself was. 

When things had calmed down, Bethany less stressed than before, she had elbowed her older sister, to which Marianne took offense. Bethany hadn’t stopped teasing her hours after that meeting for not being able to keep her eyes off the low cut of his shirt. They bickered for a while, and it was good, or at least better than it was that morning. Hopeful. Bethany’s voice breaking in fear when she tried to lighten the mood with a joke earlier had settled poorly in her stomach.

No longer mercenaries employed to pay back their debt of getting into the city, the two of them and Aveline had a fair bit of trouble finding jobs at first. Then, their reputation preceded them, and work was easier to find. Now that they had a second rogue, their little party was well on its way to their goal. They would work with a renewed fire. Bethany, for their mother. Hawke, for her family. Aveline, for the family she’d found. Varric…

Marianne still couldn’t quite figure him out. But as far as she was concerned, she didn’t need to. She’d take his word for it. Not that she minded his company to begin with. It was nice to have someone to banter with, and he was very kind to Beth. A necessity for anyone spending any amount of time in her life, business partner or not.

Regardless, their new merry little crew had work to do, making plans to meet in Hightown the next morning.

* * *

Yesterday had proven very eventful. Marianne wasn’t quite sure what to think of fate, or destiny, or the Maker’s Plan, but she had a feeling change was on the wind. She only hoped it would be good.

“Let’s see. Aveline would probably want to help. She  _ is _ a city guard after all, any ruffians we clean up would probably be appreciated!” Marianne clapped her hands together with a cheerful grin. Bethany nodded, “A good place to start, considering all of us are backline fighters.” 

Marianne placed a hand to her chest in an over the top fashion. “Why Bethany, dear, what does that make me, then? Chopped liver?” That got a small laugh from the mage, and Marianne felt gleeful at managing to lift her spirit. It had been a very rough time, and well, it was always good to hear her baby sister giggle.

“You aren’t fighting on  _ our  _ backlines, you’re on the enemies’, with your dagger firmly in their backsides.” 

Marianne snorted. “I’m hardly about to stab someone in the ass, Beth.” That got a chuckle out of Varric. Marianne turned to him. “Can you believe her? Stabbing someone in the ass!” 

Bethany rolled her eyes, before Varric chimed in, “There are much more pleasant ways to keep someone from walking straight, you know.”

Bethany groaned. “Maker help me, there are two smartasses now.”

Marianne giggled as her sister shook her head and began to walk ahead of the other two. 

When they approached the Viscount’s Keep, they paused to straighten themselves out, and ensure they were as presentable as could be. Really, Marianne didn’t want Beth anywhere near any nobility that might sniff around, but there just wasn’t much she could do to keep her away, and wasn’t going to insult her by trying. 

They walked casually, but with purpose, and nobody batted an eye. Whether they blended in, or the up and ups couldn’t care less about the rabble, they walked easily into the Guard...base? Headquarters? Probably headquarters, Marianne figured. They’d have some official sounding name.

Seeing that familiar red hair made Marianne light up, and Bethany perked up with her.

“Aveline!” She said, and figured it would probably be a bit much to hug a woman in full armor. 

“Hello, Marianne.” She replied, continuing to look over the rosters.

“...Aveline?” 

That seemed to make her remember herself, and turned to face them. “Sorry, it feels like we just talked. I’ve been keeping an eye on your family. Bartrand’s a-” 

She paused, seeing Varric, who raised an eyebrow. “You can say he’s a son of a bitch. It’s hardly the worst thing someone’s called him to my face, and it’s not an inaccurate description.”

“-A shrewd businessman.” She finished, clearing her throat.

Marianne smiled at her. “It’s nice to know you care, Aveline, and I really am sorry we haven’t stopped by sooner, but well. You know how it is to be around all the up-and-ups, and how busy we’ve been. But look! We even managed to make a new friend. One in a year isn’t that bad, is it?”

“I noticed.” She said dryly, to which Varric gave a cheeky grin. “Varric Tethras, though I’m sure you already knew that.”

“Aveline Vallen, in case one of the Hawkes forgot to mention.” 

“Speaking of our favorite guard, how have you been?” Bethany chimed in quietly. 

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I might have stepped on someone’s toes, because they’ve been pushing me out to some dead patrols. It’s frustrating, not being where I’m needed. Actually…”

She looked over the three before her. “I might have a job for you if you’re up for it.”

Marianne beamed at her. “This is why we love you, Aveline. We came to see if you knew of any work! We’re trying to get some funds together to become a partner for the expedition you already know about. Besides, even if that wasn’t the case, you know we’d help you if you only ask us.”

Bethany smiled as well. “You’re family, Aveline, just say the word.”

The guard ducked her head, to hide a smile and a slight blush from embarrassment. “Easy you two, I have a reputation. And, well...You know where to find me if you need a sturdy shield.” 

That only made the Hawke sisters giggle to themselves. “But yes, what do you need, Aveline?”

The other woman grew a bit more serious, and rested her gaze on Varric before glancing back to Marianne. “Don’t mind our new tag along. We’re trusting our entire future on his shoulders. If we can trust him to get us where we need to be, we should be able to trust him on this. Isn’t that right, Varric?”

“Oh, no, don’t mind me. Just here to be a helping hand, and keep an eye on these two so they can actually help my brother’s little venture.” He said with an easy smile, holding up his hands placatingly.

“Alright. But not a word of this leaves here, understand? There’s an ambush planned, not sure who the target is. Probably a caravan, but I can’t find any that match up. Either way, someone needs to be there to put a stop to it, my district or not.” Aveline spoke quieter, pulling them off to the side. 

Marianne grew more serious, though the smile never left her face. “Sounds like  _ someone’s  _ had their ear to the ground, hm? Have any names to go with that information? Or, any other, more specific information at all?”

“Not particularly, but I’ve got nothing scheduled that night. If we’re there, and we’re attacked? They’re bad. We’ve got full authority to stop them. I do still think they’re probably smugglers, considering it’s an obvious trap for a caravan.”

“Well, we’ll make sure no one else gets hurt or robbed because of this.” Bethany said decisively, and Marianne smiled at her. 

“That’s the spirit, Beth! What’s stopping a little highway robbery among friends?” Her grin was toothy and dangerous, which made Aveline relieved and only  _ slightly _ apprehensive at unleashing her on the robbers. 

“Thanks again for agreeing to help me out with this.”

“You know, I thought trouble kept finding you two, but now I’m positive you go out looking for it as a hobby.” Varric remarked, seemingly amused at their interactions.

“Hobby? Messere Dwarf, it’s a full career we’ve got here. And business tends to be  _ very _ good in Kirkwall, you know.” Marianne’s grin became less deadly, and more friendly.

“How  _ did _ you find out about this, Aveline?” Bethany got them back on track. The other woman rolled back one of her shoulders, and Marianne noted that she was probably itching to do some fieldwork. 

“I have contacts.  _ Someone _ is hiring thugs, and being told to watch for ‘Travelers’. Part of my job is reading between the lines, and it’s hard not to read into all that.”

“Why not bring in the other guards, then? It sounds important.” Marianne tilted her head.

“Because you’re my friends, and I knew you’d be looking for work. Profit and influence is to be had from this. If you weren’t available, I’d send up an alert and someone else would lead a patrol.” Aveline smiled.

“Well, there’s no question of us helping, it was a done deal the second you thought to ask us.” Marianne couldn’t exactly hug her, so she settled for putting a hand on her shoulder. 

“I knew you would. They’re up on Sundermount, but I know a shortcut we can use to get there. If you’re ready to head out, I am as well.”

Marianne clapped her hands together with a grin. “Then lead the way, Madame Guard.”

* * *

The walk back to the Viscount’s Keep and the Guard Barracks was cheerful for half of them, and relieved for the other. Bethany and Aveline were just glad that nobody would be ambushed, while Marianne and Varric were happy that the job was done, and they were going to get their pay for it. 

They were all at least a little blood soaked, but that was an easy fix with a quick stop near the water to rinse the worst of it off. “It wouldn’t do to scare the nobles, now, would it?” Marianne had noted.

They decided to have Aveline go in first to give a report, while the others waited outside the Captain’s Office. It was already the afternoon when they got back, and though it had been somewhat of a trek, they could stand around for a while longer.

Of course, that waiting became less satisfied after a fight well done, and more, why the hell is he yelling at Aveline as time went on. Marianne’s smile slipped down to a thoughtful pout, a sharp gaze on the door while she leaned against the wall. Bethany and Varric exchanged looks. 

“Guess we won’t be getting a reward, then…?” Varric mused dryly. 

Marianne stood up just a second before Aveline slammed the door open. Varric shut it from the other side, having only narrowly avoided getting hit by it. Marianne’s gaze was still sharp, and she glanced in to take in the Captain’s appearance, before darting back to Aveline as she walked forward to stand by her.

“Something’s wrong here. It shouldn't matter who’s patrol it was, we stopped an ambush. This isn’t the first time he’s made me question him like this.”

Marianne put a comforting arm around Bethany’s shoulder, knowing the comment about potentially being jailed from the Captain’s yelling had gotten to her. 

“Who’s toes did you step on, then? If he decided to throw a temper tantrum over you taking up someone else’s patrol, then there’s a reason for it, right?”

“The duty roster is here, let me take a look.” Aveline said, and the four of them went over to the posting.

A short haired woman came over, the relief on her clear. “Thank you for clearing that Ambush, Aveline. It was a single patrol, and it would have gotten me killed.”

“Brennan? That was yours?” Aveline seemed surprised.

“A single patrol? Was that normal, then? Nothing unusual?” Marianne turned to Brennan.

“It was. The whole place had been clear for weeks, nothing was out of the ordinary until we heard about the ambush. The Captain reassigned me and I passed Donnic the satchel for his patrol tonight.”

“The satchel?” Marianne inquired, glancing to Aveline.

“Pay and order assignments. We run them to the Guard Outposts during light duty.” Aveline explained.

“It’s usually just an updated copy of the roster, but the satchel today was heavy, though. Anyway, thank you all again. I owe you all a drink sometime.”

As Brennan walked away, Varric spoke. “Pretty interesting timing, huh? The satchel gets heavy the same day we discover the ambush.”

Aveline sighed and ran a hand down her face, looking over the roster with a hard glare.

“Just checking in on this, Aveline, but if you want to pursue this, I’d like to remind you that this  _ is _ your superior officer.” Bethany pointed out hesitantly.

“If a guard has been put at risk, a good Captain would want to know why. And if he’s not a good Captain,  _ I  _ want to know why.” Aveline turned around, determined, and Marianne nodded. 

“Well said, Aveline, well said. In that case, I suppose us Ferelden dogs have some sniffing to do.” The rogue added in a low voice, that sharp grin of hers back in place.

“It’s a messy way of passing information. And Brennan already sent it along.” Varric pointed out.

“Then another guard is walking into the same trap. I can't let that happen. Brennan said Donnic was running it. A good man. Let me see here...”

She flattened down the paper the roster was written on and read over it, while Marianne did a few quick stretches. 

“A bit more action for the night, then.” She spoke lowly to the other two. 

“Like I said, you two find Trouble if it doesn’t find you first.” Varric sounded amused, even though he’d also be walking into that same trouble.

“I’ve got it. A night walk in Lowtown. Let’s go make sure his quiet patrol  _ stays _ that way.” Aveline turned and walked out of the barracks, the other three on her heels.

“I love it when she gets like this. Steel in her spine, power in her walk. Very scary to anyone she’s glaring at, and she can part a crowd like a knife through soft cheese.”

“I can tell. I imagine it’s only fun when that look isn’t leveled at you.” Varric chuckled.

“Oh, it’s terrifying when it’s leveled at you, but that’s what makes this so fun. We’re behind her.” Marianne spoke cheerfully.

They did make a brief detour, and it was to make sure they had enough poultices and bandages stopped up, just in case the fight got particularly bad. Varric insisted on paying. 

“Please, we’ll be returning the costs of these things in no time. Plus I imagine it’s a lot less flashy than Sunshine over there.” 

Kirkwall did have a wonderful policy of letting you keep the spoils on any bandit, as long as it either wasn’t stolen property, a personal item, or evidence.

Bethany rolled her eyes, but thanked him on the walk back. She could use her magic to heal, yes, but it was harder to hide. 

Night had fallen by the time they made it to the street Donnic’s route was supposed to start.

* * *

Once again, they were covered in blood. Marianne had hoped it wouldn’t be a daily occurrence now that they weren’t mercenaries anymore, but oh well! It made things interesting.

Thanks to Aveline and Marianne’s fast footwork, they had maneuvered themselves between Donnic and the others in only a few moments, with Varric giving them cover. Bethany had knelt down, beginning to treat Donnic quickly, and pull him away from the fighting. It wouldn’t do to use magic in front of witnesses, after all, so she stood over him and used her staff as a blunt weapon rather than a magical amplifier.

Marianne kept getting more and more proud of her precious baby sister every day.

“Ave...Aveline? You’re a beautiful sight…” Donnic breathed in relief as Aveline helped him up after the fight. Bethany stood back besides Marianne, who watched with crossed arms and a fond look. 

“Guardsman?” Aveline said softly, and she was still covered in blood, but Donnic looked at her like she was a sunrise over the sea, or something equally poetic. 

Bethany and Marianne exchanged looks. She would be teased for this. Gently, mindful of her heart, but teased nonetheless. What was family for, after all? Varric looked positively  _ delighted _ by the exchange.

“I-I mean…” Donnic stood up a bit straighter, and Aveline still had her hands on his arms. “I was on patrol, and they came out of nowhere. I took a few down, but there were too many at once.”

“Oh, right, almost totally forgot that was happening.” Marianne said in a quiet aside to the other audience members. 

Aveline let go of him, once again becoming Serious Guard Aveline.

“The Captain said this route was supposed to be quiet.” Marianne noted, picking up the dropped satchel. Hmm. Maybe she should get a satchel? She didn’t know what she’d keep in there, but it was a thought for later.

“Is that…?” Bethany said in horror, peaking over her sister’s shoulder at the contents. Marianne pulled them out, and Varric whistled quietly. 

“The seal of the Viscount himself! Office details and city accounts.”

“Valuable to a guild of thieves. No, not just valuable, I’d say more like a gold mine.” Marianne held out the paperwork and the satchel to Aveline. When she didn’t take it, she passed them back to Donnic.

Aveline’s hands were shaking, in fists at her side. “A sacrificial delivery with one of our own. Captain Jeven  _ will _ answer for this.”

“You sure about exposing this? He’s the Captain of the guards, and it probably won’t reflect well on everyone to go public. It could make the guards look weak.” Marianne asked.

“Then we look weak. The others deserve better than someone like him. This goes to the office of the Viscount. This will be known.”

Aveline once again led the charge back to the Viscount’s Keep. In addition to her power walk from earlier, she was now pissed off  _ and _ covered in blood, which only made Marianne more excited for her. 

The look on the nobles’ faces would be a fantastic upfront payment to their work, and Varric seemed just as delighted at the prospect as she did. 

When Marianne glanced at Bethany, her sister shot her a knowing look, before nodding at Donnic. He still looked at her in awe, which Marianne thought was adorable.

Aveline spoke with a self satisfied tone as they began their trek. “If the Captain likes his thieves so much, let’s see if they welcome him in prison.”

* * *

Aveline stared in shock at the Captain’s Office.  _ Her _ office. The promotion, or promise of one after training, was absolutely unexpected for her. 

Marianne and Bethany managed to move her aside. “Hugs, Aveline, I don’t even care if you’re wearing armor, or if we’re still covered in blood!” 

Marianne threw her arms around the other woman’s shoulders, before stepping back so Bethany could do the same. “We’re absolutely taking Brennan up on that drink, hell the whole guard should celebrate! Finally they get someone competent instead of a rat-weasel like Jever. Was it Jever? I don’t care, he doesn’t matter!” Marianne clapped her hands together, rocking back on her heels.

“Jeven.” Aveline corrected distantly, before blinking back and looking at them. “His name is Jeven. I just. It’s only been a year, and they want to make me Captain?”

“It makes perfect sense, Red!” Aveline narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay, not Red. Like I was saying, it makes perfect sense. You exposed the corruption, you get promoted, their asses get saved at least a little bit. It looks very, very bad for them to have a corrupt Guard Captain. By promoting you, they’re putting someone actually competent in power, and get to save face. Everyone wins!” Varric explained.

“That does make sense.” She admitted.

“Of course it does, Aveline, you’re easily the most competent person in the guard.” Bethany said, thrilled. “You’re intelligent, and caring, and you were the only one that saw through his bullshit! You’re perfect for it.”

Marianne hugged Aveline again, and this time she was hugged back. “I’m so happy for you, Aveline.” She spoke quietly, and when she pulled back, she gave her the Look. 

Bethany and Aveline both knew it as, ‘Marianne is so incredibly proud right now that she’s gotten Emotional’. It was almost always leveled at Bethany in some capacity, but Aveline had been on the receiving end before.

“Now, let’s go wash up, shall we? All this blood is starting to dry and flake.” Marianne beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not all going to be directly from the game, but to get started I figured it would be better to stay close to canon. I also switched a few things around on who said what, and who did what, to add a bit more personality.


	4. A World of Noise

Of course the celebration was merry, and most of those involved ended up with a wicked headache and empty pockets. Marianne and Bethany were spared due to neither drinking nor gambling.

Bethany had an excellent grasp of her magic, but she wasn’t about to risk any slips. Marianne just preferred not to drink. Neither gambled because they had enough sense not to play with Varric. Aveline won a surprising number of rounds, and Donnic lost horribly. As the night went on, Donnic was so very clearly hanging off the new Captain’s every word, which only made Bethany and Marianne giggle together even more. 

Varric showed everyone how to play Wicked Grace, and both Hawke sisters played a few rounds before the betting began. Marianne had to hold her sides more than once that night from how hard she laughed. The handful of guards that had been invited out with them seemed to be enjoying themselves as well.

Varric drank some, but didn’t get tipsy. That didn’t stop Marianne from whispering conspiratorially in his ear, pointing at Aveline. 

“She has a sixth sense for people talking about her. Just wait and see.”

Varric laughed hard enough to rest his head in his hands after the Captain turned towards them and narrowed her eyes.

“Do I want to know?” She challenged wryly.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s nothing, really.” Marianne waved her off. 

Aveline kept shooting them glances for the next hour, causing Marianne to burst into giggles every time. 

The glances stopped when the game started. Brennan was out a fair bit of coin, and Donnic lost his shirt at some point. Seeing Aveline level him with a look made Bethany lean into her sister’s side, trying not to be as obvious with her laughter as the other two were.

It was sweet, Marianne thought. She wrapped an arm around her sister’s shoulder, before catching the attention of the people still playing. She started a story she’d be hard pressed to remember later. Something about getting stuck in a hay bale after trying to see if made for a good place to nap. Half the table broke into laughter, with Bethany pressed closer into her side. 

She felt a little bit nauseous, her smile fading as the conversation turned elsewhere. So many of her favorite stories were tinged with something very sad now. It tended to happen when one of the people involved wasn’t around anymore.

Everything seemed a bit too loud at that point, and she idly realized Bethany wasn’t smiling anymore either. 

Plastering on an easy grin, she waved a hand and offered to go up and carry the next round over.

“Bethany, care to help? Since we’re the only sober ones, I’d rather not have anyone else spill the drinks.” Bethany nodded, relieved. Marianne knew Aveline had caught their looks, and seemed understanding. 

They carried back the drinks, but the reprieve wasn’t enough for Marianne. She was ready to tough it out, though. Until she saw the tightness in Bethany’s smile, and found she needed a break as well. 

She gently pulled her sister outside, where they leaned against the wall, breathing in the fresher night air. They sat on the cleanest ground they could find by the door, and listened to the soft sounds of the inn.

“I think…” Bethany began, voice thick. Marianne lifted one of her arms, and Bethany tucked in at her side. “I think Carver would have liked Aveline.” Marianne smiled sadly into her hair. 

“He would have. I can see it now, both of them giving us disappointed looks for stirring up trouble.” Marianne pet her sister’s hair. “Hmm. Do you think he would have joined the guard?”

“Maybe. The structure and routine would have kept him from going a bit crazy. He would have had Aveline with him, and they both would have climbed rank together.” 

“I think he would have… Well, maybe not liked Kirkwall. But he would have appreciated the chance to make a name for himself. Imagine how terrifying the Hawke Trio would be. A hallowed name on the streets, surely.”

“Maker, I miss him.”

Marianne hugged Bethany tightly, a gesture returned by her baby sister.

“We all do, Beth. I know it hurts like hell. At least Father’s keeping an eye on him. With how often he lectured on me on getting into trouble, he was just as bad, sometimes.”

“Nobody can outmatch you for getting into trouble.” Bethany sniffled.

“Well, that’s probably true. Troublemaker might as well be my name.”

Marianne hugged Bethany tighter, and they both shared a small smile.

“Do you want to turn in for the night, Beth? I doubt Aveline would blame us.”

She hesitated. “Are you sure? I mean, tonight is supposed to be a celebration.”

“Celebrations are overrated anyway. Besides, we had fun, didn’t we? It’s perfectly reasonable to turn in before everyone gets even more rowdy.”

“Alright, then. I’d like to go.” Bethany admitted.

Marianne stood, brushed herself off, and helped up her sister. The rogue stretched, before looping their arms together and heading off.

* * *

Hearing their Mother and Gamlen talking about their parents when the two walked in only made Marianne hold Bethany closer.

Marianne idly went through the letters by the door, opening the one from Meeran as she listened in on the conversation across the room. Bethany read over her shoulder.

“It’s good to know we’ve got some kind of contact, at least.” She spoke quietly, to which Marianne absently hummed in agreement.

The heavier envelope with a seal she didn’t recognize was tucked away in the satchel she’d purchased. She counted that as a personal victory on her part, for thinking of getting one. It was by someone named Xenon, which she’d properly read later. 

Maybe they should get a Mabari. That ought to do some good for her heart, knowing a big, strong hound was home to keep Mother safe. Another thought for later.

Of course, with how Gamlen was frustrating Mother, it was hard to stay out of their conversation. 

She let Bethany do the talking, content to sit back in a chair by the fire and pretend to reread Meeran’s letter while she read the room. 

Of course Gamlen wouldn’t like their Father, she mused, and of course he’d at least slightly resent Mother for running away with an apostate. 

The news that he left the will their grandparents had left behind, however, was unexpected, and her eyes darted up to meet Bethany’s for a moment, before going back to reading.

When it was clear Gamlen wasn’t going to talk anymore, and their Mother was just as done with him, Marianne stood and stretched.

“Well, I’ve got some good news! Aveline was made Guard Captain, though I believe I already mentioned that. We’ve made a good name for ourselves, as well, and it seems that a few reputable parties caught interest. We have plans to speak to some of them in the next few days, sort out some affairs, and get some better paying work. Of course, all this running around and celebrating has left me a bit tired, so I’ll be turning in earlier than usual.”

Marianne patted her disgruntled uncle on the back, and gave her Mother a hug that was half returned, before striding into the bedroom. She took out the letter from Xenon, and made a note to ask Varric and Aveline about this Black Emporium later. 

Bethany followed a little while after, to which Marianne tucked them back into her satchel. “So, sister dear, whatever are you thinking?” She spoke lowly as to avoid being heard through the thin walls.

“I’m thinking that, well...I don’t want to assume the worst, but…” Bethany sat down on the bed beside her.

“Gamlen was absolutely being fishy about the will? That he probably made some rather poor decisions regarding what was almost certainly Mother’s inheritance? Yes, I agree.”

“He’s family! I’d had to think so poorly of him, but, well. You’re not wrong.”

“I mean, I can’t blame her for being so upset about it, even if she might not realize what he’s done.” Marianne took off the satchel and set it beside the bed, before ducking down to take off her boots.

“Marianne…” 

She stopped halfway down at the broken sound of her sister’s voice, ice creeping down her spine and stopping her breath. She slowly sat up and looked at her.

“Mother’s been...She’s been so torn apart since coming here. About how angry her parents were at her. She told me that she wished...That…” Marianne wrapped her arms around her baby sister, holding her close. She pet her hair and did her very best to be reassuring.

“She said she wished she died with Carver. Marianne, we have to do  _ something. _ This grief is tearing her apart, and I just.”

Marianne shushed her gently. “It’s alright, Beth. When we can get the expedition funds together, we can buy the estate back. Give her back her home.”

“I’m not so sure. Apparently Gamlen sold it to some slavers to settle a debt. It makes me sick to think about what’s gone on in there. They’ve got absolutely no right to it. We’ve got to get in there, and find that will. I...I already have a plan.”

“Maker, Beth. You’re always making me so damn proud I might as well burst. Planning a heist all on your own already?” Marianne grinned, and at the small giggle her sister gave her, she felt a weight lift off their shoulders.

“Here’s what I know.” Bethany began, and Marianne had the distinct feeling it wouldn’t be a good idea to bring Aveline with them.

* * *

Aveline, Marianne, Bethany, and Varric stood outside the cellar’s hatch in Darktown.

“The only reason I’m even remotely letting this happen is because they’re criminals.” Aveline reaffirmed once again.

“The only reason this is happening at all is because they’re criminals. Otherwise we’d have bought fancy dresses, dolled up our hair, and been playing nice with the resident nobility.” Marianne cheerfully confirmed, and Aveline sighed.

“As it stands, this is sketchy. We don’t actually have reason to believe there are slavers inside.” 

“Aveline, you can thoroughly berate me for this plan later if you’d like.” Marianne offered.

“As it stands, there are currently slavers in a Hightown manor, occupying it illegally, and doing illegal things inside. Should a ruckus be caused, and a few slaver bodies appear? Well, the guard would be called to investigate. And once that all investigation happens, there might be a few interesting leads on any kind of slave trade in the city. Try and consider this an advance investigation, if you will.” Varric soothed the taller woman.

Aveline sighed. “Fine. But you three owe me for this.”

* * *

Normally, they’d never come home to Mother blood soaked, but well, they had the Will, and it’s contents were clear. Bethany held on to it.

Marianne stopped everyone outside Gamlen’s front door. “Now, now, let’s not scare Mother dear with our exploits. Here, everyone clean up the best you can.” Marianne tucked into her second satchel, because they were very handy, and took out some rags. “Just a quick once over is good enough, Bethany and I will actually go in and handle the talking.”

Marianne wiped herself off with practiced ease, and used a clean rag to clean some blood spots on Bethany’s cheeks. 

“Mother hen.” Varric spoke under his breath with a smile.

“What was that, Varric?”

“Nothing!” He said, but Aveline chuckled.

After the sisters went inside, and Marianne smoothed over the ruffled feathers Gamlen’s lying had caused due to not wanting any more divides between the family, their Mother regained the color in her cheeks and the steel in her spine.

Marianne shooed Bethany back outside to tell their friends the good news, before talking again with Mother.

Something in Marianne fell apart, then. At the idea of grandparents that would have been proud and loved her. Who would have thought her a wonderful child to have. Hearing her talk of Carver broke her heart. 

Her mother might have apologized for lashing out and blaming her, but Marianne…

Well, she deserved it, didn’t she? After all, she let Carver rush off. Wasn’t fast enough to get to the ogre first. At the very least they would have stood a better chance if they had rushed it together.

She swallowed everything she didn’t say.

She spoke to Gamlen quietly after instead, when Mother left to go buy a nicer dress. It would be best to make a good impression when she brought the will to the Viscount’s attention, or at least begin the process of it. 

They spoke tiredly about how hard it was living in someone else’s shadow. It made her miss Carver even more fiercely, and all the ways she could have let him be his own person more. Of the knowledge you were never enough, even in the absence of someone else. A bitter feeling, a nauseous one, a sadly familiar one.

Marianne stood and quietly walked out, intending to trail behind her mother to keep her out of trouble, only to open the front door to a peculiar sight.

Aveline leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and smiling. Bethany and Mother sat on the steps, curled close to each other, laughing. Varric stood at the bottom, waving his hands as he wove a story.

He caught Marianne’s eye, and gave her a small smile, before wrapping the tale up.

Bethany and their mother looked up to find Marianne watching. “Come, dear. Let’s all make the walk to the Market together. Aveline needs to report to the guards, and Messere Tethras has business in the market. Why not make it a nice little outing?”

Varric shook his head. “Please, call me Serah. You  _ are _ , after all, a woman of high standing.”

Their mother preened at the acknowledgement. “Very well. I thank you, Serah Tethras.”

Marianne couldn’t say no to her Mother, and smiled widely. “Of course we’ll go! We’ll be sure to steer clear of trouble. Besides, I’m interested in seeing what kind of dresses would suit Beth.”

And so the family, along with a stray or two, made their way to the market, and if Marianne’s stomach was still a bit uneasy, she hid it well.


	5. Into the Trees

Marianne had invited her dear friends out for lunch at the Hanged Man. Varric, who Marianne had previously explained her reasoning to, had offered up his room for the unofficial meeting.

Marianne and Bethany arrived together to greet Varric, first, while Aveline showed up a little bit late.

They all sat down at the table, and Marianne cleared her throat when everyone finished eating.

“Varric, you know how you just delight in insane feats and stories?” Marianne led with a sweet voice.

“Why do I have the feeling whatever you’re about to say fits more in the ‘insane’ part of that statement?” He said, amused. “But yes, I do. By all means, give me more material.”

Marianne very gently took an amulet out of her satchel, and placed it on the table between the four of them.

“I swear to the Maker, Andraste, or the Stone-You’re not religious I believe, but still-that what I’m about to tell you is absolutely true. Aveline and Beth can vouch for me.”

At this, Varric leaned forward, elbows on the table and hands clasped in front of him, before speaking. “Firstly, you’re right, I’m not, and secondly,  _ please _ continue.”

The three women explained how exactly they escaped the Blight. A lot of the more...serious, and upsetting details were kept to a minimum. A simple, that’s when my brother died, and then her husband.

Varric’s rapt fascination with their story became more serious at that.

When Marianne wrapped up the story, Varric just turned to take in each woman’s face. His eyes lingered on how tightly Bethany and Marianne held each other’s hands. The tired look in Aveline’s eyes.

“...Well, shit.” Varric leaned back, eyes finally falling back to the amulet in the center of the table. “Okay. So. Dragon woman, witch of the wilds. Any reason why you didn’t take that thing up there the second you were let in the city?”

“Besides the fact that it was just the three of us that would have to scale a mountain? Or that we knew little to nothing about whether or not we’d be  _ let back in _ if we left for even a day?” Marianne picked up the amulet gently, and cautiously turned it over in her hands.

“Meeran tended to keep us very, very busy with our work. We were usually so exhausted that it wasn’t even remotely safe to go out into the wilderness, especially one as unforgiving as Sundermount, without a few other mercenaries and specific maps and locations.” Bethany added.

“Plus my responsibilities to the guard and my schedule being more difficult than usual with how the ex-captain treated me anytime I asked too many questions.” Aveline supplied.

“And we were supposed to take it to someone named Marethari. It’s taken us a bit of digging around to find out if they were even near here.” Marianne set the Amulet back in her satchel.

“Alright, fair enough on all accounts. And let me guess. You’re worried that you’re going to have a very impatient, very dangerous old woman to deal with if you wait much longer? And so you’re asking me to go with you?”

“Varric, have I ever told you how very clever you are?” Marianne said with a half smile.

“Not enough, Hawke. Not even close.” Varric said with a returning smile. “Alright. Fuck it, let’s climb a mountain. And fight some wildlife, probably. Also, you do realize that mountain is incredibly haunted, right? Like, ancient burial ground levels of haunted. There is a non-zero chance we’ll be fighting ghosts and or demons.”

“On the bright side, at least we have a mage?” Marianne offered, to which Bethany rolled her eyes. “Besides, you’ll be in the back!”   
  


“I sure will. With said mage.” Fortunately, Varric only seemed dryly amused, and with a little bit of asking nicely, he agreed to join them. Under the condition he was allowed to complain, of course.

* * *

They set out two days later. One day to rest and gather supplies for their little trek, not including the day they had lunch.

True to their word, Varric did in fact complain about the trek, though it was mostly joking and sarcastic. It took them at least an hour to reach the right area. And then, of course, there were giant spiders.

It made for a wonderful bonding experience! Everyone hates being covered in spider guts.

After a less than warm welcome, and yet another probably dangerous old woman that spoke in riddles, they finally figured out what they were supposed to do besides ‘Bring the amulet to Marethari.’

Honestly, Marianne thought she was like someone’s grandmother, only she could probably light you on fire very easily, and spoke in more riddles than she imagined most grandmothers did. Then again, it wasn’t as if Marianne had knew either of her grandmothers. It was mostly just an assumption.

Of course the little band of misfits were as polite as they could be, given the fact that they’d rather not piss off an entire clan of trained fighters that already didn’t like them.

The news that said band of misfits would, at least temporarily, be gaining a plus one was surprising, but Marianne had hidden it well. Diplomacy and tact keeps the speaker intact, she recalled her father saying at one point. 

They purposely walked slowly up the mountain to give them a chance to talk amongst themselves.

“What could they possibly gain by sending away their First?” Aveline spoke quietly as soon as they were out of earshot.

“The Keeper said Merrill wanted to leave. The better question is why would she want to go? Everyone has been fairly hostile, or at least distrusting. Why would their First want to move into a human city?” Bethany looked at her sister in concern.

“I suppose we’ll just have to find out, won’t we? After all, we do have to walk up the mountain and back to Kirkwall with her.” At that Marianne, picked up the pace, with the others following.

* * *

Marianne adored Merrill. She seemed so sweet, and well meaning. Of course she knew that there was probably a reason she was leaving the Clan, and odds were it wasn’t a good one, but she couldn’t deny the soft spot she had as soon as she realized the elven woman was a mage. 

She had casted a look back at Beth, and decided that until she was given reason not to, she’d look out for Merrill the best she could. Marianne was well aware how grating constantly being on watch for Templars could be, and she didn’t want the poor woman who was leaving her home to suffer through that stress by herself.

Marianne ignored the I-told-you-so looks Varric kept casting to the rest of their little party at the various corpses springing from the ground at random intervals.

She would admit, however, the Hunter’s reaction to Merrill was less than fantastic, and it did make her a fair bit more concerned about who exactly they were bringing back into the city.

Traversing through the caves, Marianne remembered her little thought about being covered in spider guts making for good team bonding, and wanted to give her past self a little kick. That was  _ not _ an invitation for more damn spiders, and yet here they all were, ichor and grime coating them. It was drying in some places from their earlier escapade, and Marianne scrunched up her nose at the thought of having to scrub this all out. This was her good armor, after all. It certainly didn’t help that the spiders later on seemed to have some kind of sickness.

At Merrill’s use of blood magic, Marianne’s little rhyme about being diplomatic entirely slipped her mind, and her first response was sarcastic. She gave a chuckle she hoped wasn’t as uneasy sounding as she felt. 

“Perhaps, since you mentioned it being dangerous up ahead, we take a little break? We packed some lunch, you’re welcome to share mine if you’d like.” Marianne offered.

“No, but thank you! I think I’d just like to sit for a moment then, by myself if that’s alright with you. Not that I’m trying to say I don’t want to sit with you, I don’t mean any offense, I think it’s just been a long day for me and, well…”

“It’s fine, Merrill. By all means, sit where you’d prefer.” Marianne smiled at her. The other woman gave a half smile back, before sitting down on a rock a ways away from the other three. 

Marianne got her rations out of her pack, and took a bite of one of the sausages she’d packed, just as Aveline turned on her.

“How the fuck are we going to tell your mother ‘Sorry, we brought home a  _ blood mage _ ?” Aveline hissed quietly.

Marianne turned to Bethany, still chewing.

“Don’t look at me! I’m not going to be the one to tell her.” Bethany deflected.

Marianne rolled her eyes, swallowing. “It was more a look of, ‘you’re the resident mage, please talk about this magical subject.”

“I don’t know about you all, but I’ll admit I’m a little caught off guard here. I thought we were getting rid of an amulet, not getting a new tag-along.”

“Varric,  _ you’re _ a tag-along.” Marianne playfully elbowed the dwarf.

“No changing the subject on this one. This is a serious concern. Once she gets back to Kirkwall, she’ll most likely live in the alienage. We cannot have an abomination pop up in such a densely populated area, let alone be  _ responsible _ for it.” Aveline pressed, clearly concerned.

“Her, Aveline, responsible for her. Besides, one of the main reasons mages give in to demons is out of an intense hopelessness. If we give her support and attention, not only does that decrease the odds of any sort of unfriendly possessions, we also get to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s not doing anything bad.” Marianne pointed out.

Varric snorted. “There are hardly  _ friendly _ possessions, Hawke.”

“And I thought there were  _ hardly _ friendly dragons, and yet here we all are, on our way to return the favor to one.” 

Bethany cut in. “I’m not so sure about the friendly part at all, at least when it comes to that particular dragon. Didn’t you hear Merrill? She’s left little bits of people hanging from trees!”

“Beth, please, we  _ are _ trying to have lunch, though I must admit you make a fair point. Isn’t it all the better to just see what happens? We go up the mountain, do the rite, give Marethari the amulet. Then we take Merrill to, say, the Hanged Man where she can stay until we figure out what we’re going to do from there. Does that work for everyone? Because if the aforementioned dragon is as  _ unfriendly _ as we’ve heard, I’d rather not owe her any favors for longer than we need to, right?”

“Fine. But we  _ will _ have this talk at some point.” Aveline warned with a sigh.

“Of course! Now, let’s finish lunch.” Marianne said, before taking a bite of her cheese.

* * *

Walking back to Kirkwall, Marianne reflected on what exactly happened. From an  _ actual _ ancient burial ground(She owed Varric coin for that), to the Arcane Horror they had to brawl on said burial ground, to fighting  _ more corpses _ because it was haunted(she owed Varric even more coin for that).

And that wasn’t even touching upon re-meeting the witch.

Burned into her memory was the visage of wings made of fire and light unfurling from where the amulet had rested on the altar, to them reforming into the woman herself. 

It had sent chills down her spine so sharp, her skin had raised into bumps from it.

Her hair was still windblown from the lift off of mighty wings, and she hadn’t the thought to fix it. Maker, what even  _ was _ her life?

What are you supposed to do with the knowledge you’d saved the life of a potentially murderous witch, and that you smuggled her across the sea? Or that you were taking a blood mage back to a nice, populated area? Marianne sure as fuck didn’t know.

It’s not like she could do anything about it now, she mused with a sigh. It was getting dark. The entire walk back had been filled with Varric trying to get Merrill to stop looking like someone had kicked her with various anecdotes and stories about life in Kirkwall.

Marianne got the feeling he also saw how very lost she looked.

Marianne handed Varric the coin she owed him, which he then immediately spent on a room for Merrill. At Marianne’s protest, he cut her off. “Ah-ah-ah. Now Hawke, this is my coin, and I can spend it how I like. Not my fault you didn’t get a room for her first.”

Marianne pouted for a moment, before turning to Merrill. “We’ll take you to the Alienage tomorrow, alright? Help you find a place for yourself.”

Merrill perked up somewhat at that, and Marianne just couldn’t help but pat her shoulder comfortingly. “Things will turn out alright, just you see.”

“I really hope they do.” Merrill said, giving her a half smile.

The next day Marianne and Bethany arrived to find Varric grinning, and Merrill chatting excitedly. Apparently, Varric had gotten her a place before they’d even arrived. 

“Don’t worry about me, rent is cheap and I’m keeping an eye on yet another investment, is all.”

Marianne elbowed him playfully. “Careful, Varric. I’ll start to think you have a heart under all that chest hair.”

“Serah, you wound me so terribly with your wicked accusations. I am a businessman, and thus, utterly heartless. To say anything else is a stain upon my carefully crafted reputation!”

Marianne couldn’t help but giggle at that while Bethany linked her arm with Merrill, and the little band made their walk. Varric had also apparently paid people to move that of Merrill’s belongings into her new abode, which prompted more teasing from Marianne. After a promise to Merrill to visit, the trio walked back to the Hanged Man.

“Where’s Red? You’d think after all that concern on the mountain, she’d be here in person to keep an eye on our new friend.” Varric noted.

Marianne waved a hand. “She’s still doing her training. Part of the reason why we went when we did was because of how busy she’s about to become.”

“Well, let me know the next time she’s available. I have a lead for the expedition, and I think it would be best if we had more than one front line fighter. Just come and see me when you’re ready to check up on it.”

They spent the rest of the day playing cards at the tavern, before the sisters headed home. They’d decided not to mention that Merrill was a blood mage to their mother, just that they’d made a new Dalish friend who was a bit more...magically inclined, and that they’d kept their end of the deal with the amulet.

The witch’s words sat poorly with Marianne, but she tried not to dwell on them. Old women and their riddles, she’d brushed off. But still, one thought wouldn’t leave her.

When she spoke of them being on the precipice of change, was it for better or worse?


End file.
